#resilience poem

[forgetmenot4]

Waves crash against thinning shores,

Relentless in their coming,

Even as sands erode,

And storm clouds loom.

Darkness deepens, winds howl fierce,

Hearts grow heavy with each strike,

Yet the waves keep coming,

Indifferent to our pain

We brace ourselves, weary and worn,

Facing the merciless tide,

For in the struggle, we endure,

Resilience is born when hardship is found.

-mery

„crashing waves“, june ‘24

[webweabings]

BE STRONG, BE BRAVE

Poem “Problem Area” (2016), in Last Sext, by Melissa Broder; // Unknown; // “The Waves” (1931), by Virgina Woolf; // “Notebooks” (2017), by Tennessee Williams; // “Fast Car” (1988), by Tracy Chapman; // “The American Crisis” (1776), by Thomas Paine; // Quote by @maplepecanpastry /// Stills from “Joan of Arc” (1948), by Victor Fleming, starring Ingrid Bergman

[theartoffresco]

[annapearlie]

I have a cold

- by me

[fred34543]

The Blossom Tree

It awakens each year, From winter - time rest, Months spent alone, Encased in its nest, It lingers unchanged, For many long days, Charred, icy and blackened, Midst the bleak winter haze,

The body looks lifeless, Barren and bare. Like bones in a graveyard, hung limp in the air. Unwelcome, unwanted, Seemingly dead, It's roots leech the life, Off the soft grassy bed,

Hunched over and broken, Helpless and cold, No one wants it, or needs it, Just watch it grow old, But as ice thaws to melt, As the roofs lose their frost, As the birds sing along, Wings set aloft,

The winter nights dwindle, And spring drifts in sight, A petal begins to flicker, To a crescendo of light, Like a chorus of candles, Each wick bright with flame, The blossom tree blossoms, From ashes to fame,

From nothing to something, From the depths of despair, It rises up higher, With the hope that is there, But the bitter trunk stands, Still sombre and glum, As a reminder of the past, Not the future to come,

Now green dots the rivulets, Of dungy cold bark, Spring shoots of rebellion, Against icy dead dark, Rose stains the blue, Of a cloudless white sea, Hope is the promise, Of the pink blossom tree.

Fred's poetry journal – Poetry + More

[dream-in-hearts]

Operating Table

Tell me again how much I’m doing wrong

How I stay stuck in one place

Even when I accomplish something big

Remind me again

How I’m always late

And look as depressed and anxious

As I feel

I care

Regardless of how much or little

I show and tell it.

I refuse to be a product or puppet

But I’m fine!

Medicated and sometimes motivated

And sometimes wish I’d get a little sick

Or fall into a coma

So I could die without death’s permanence

Tell me again how I should’ve spoken up sooner

How I need to believe in myself enough

To take risks

To make *everybody* proud

Even when it comes at the expense

Of prioritizing my own happiness

Of not rushing anything important

Keep me in a state

Of perpetual burnout

Make me feel like an underachiever

No matter how hard I work

Put me on a rollercoaster pedestal

Picking me up and putting me down

Never gently

The record spinning

Then scratching on a broken loop

Encourage me to lose my empathy

Since it gets in the way

Of your twisted little fantasies

Sure

I’ll just lose all of my empathy for *you*

And leave you in the dust

When I come back from the dead

For the thousandth time.

That’s the crux of this crucifixion.

[lakisfourouklas-blog]

What I Will Not Forget

When I met her, how I met her and fell in love with her

then fell out of love because she didn't love me.

How we became the best of friends and one

evening on her balcony she sang “Desperado” to me.

Driving in the mountains in an old car that

had no radio, no spare tyre and whose carburetor

was about to breathe its last, and it almost did

but then it somehow came back to life.

Walking in Athens with my friend The Poet

in the middle of the night and buying beers

from kiosk to kiosk and drinking them

and laughing hard as the young people we were.

Visiting a waterfall with her in the middle of the night

lying down on a blanket and drinking red wine

listening to the music of the water and

looking at the stars in the sky above.

Traveling on boat from Venice to Greece and meeting

scores of people, and drinking and dancing and at

the crack of dawn heading to sleep only to find

someone else having a good one in my sleeping bag.

The things we did together over time:

traveling, sharing music, writing, dreaming,

working on books and on silences,

being each other's secret half.

Starting from Pireaus for a short trip and

ending up in Germany because there was

a strike at the bus company, and from there

moving on to France and Holland.

The moments, our secret ones, the regret

I felt that one time I disappointed her,

how I still loved her and even now I catch

myself smiling every time I think of her.

My travels to Cuba and Africa but mostly to

Asia where I found friends and someone

that makes me smile and a home of sorts

things that make my soul happy, serene.

And I know that I will not forget

the things to come, good or bad,

because the journey never ends unless

its time has come, my time has come.

Lakis Fourouklas

[sarenth]

Eihwaz

I am yew I am the mighty bow I am the staff I am the spear I am rootedness I am grounding I am centering I am the deep roots of Yggdrasil I am the heights of Mímameiðr I am the shelter of Hoddmímis Holt I am the sureness of the shield I am the grip of the sword I am the flexibility of the arrow I am adaptability I am craftsmanship I am survival I am the flame-guardian I am…

[deelebee]

just finished the sunshine court (finally) and nothing is more disconcerting and heartbreaking and visceral than realizing i have always been jean when all i’ve been clinging to since i read aftg has been that i am just like neil josten

[readandlisten]

Shouting

Contains content describing a disruptive home, no violence or physical abuse

Once upon a time you looked into my eyes and saw the future,

A grey gaze reflected back, and laughter followed, cut and punctured

The love in your heart grew to hold mine,

But conditions were placed, for a dangerous time

When the laughs came less, and you had to work harder,

The betrayal hit, a fire made with a quick, igniting starter.

Burns felt like blows, and voices turned louder,

There was aggression in every question,

no answer, to maintain your power

And the blame went to me,

Your 12 year old girl,

Being asked to turn her cheek,

And silence the burning rage,

I was told to “just sit there and behave.”

But when the adults acted like children,

And tempers were flaring,

The true adolescent erupts,

Exploding, imploding, not caring

A time bomb that was set,

When her mouth was washed with soap,

No example was around to model respect or give hope

Children are seen and not heard,

But I was too loud.

Attention was stollen,

Given to a different crowd.

And there I sat,

Waiting with angst,

Needing comfort,

And love,

A hug, an embrace

Slowly it came,

When my body began to falter,

Patience returned,

I was placed on an alter.

A place to rest,

Or Sacrifice my body,

The affection came quicker,

But repairs to my heart were quite shoddy

my body healed again,

And Withdrawn was the love,

And patience dissipated,

Pushed out with a shove,

Again she’s too loud,

She has too many needs,

Toughen her up,

It won’t make her bleed

So reality hit,

There’s no way out,

My life would forever be followed by shouts

I’ve accepted my fate,

Made peace with the loud,

Learned to crumple a little less when harsh words are around

I will do better for myself, my children, my spouse,

There will be peace, hope and patience, when I’m in my own house

Until then, I’ll find security in my own mind,

Carve a piece of my heart, to treat myself kind,

I’ll do it day in and day out,

And Once every night,

I love my loud voice, and my brilliant mind,

I deserve to have hugs, and I’ll accept what I get, I’m cared for and valued and will be self confident.

I can do hard things, and the future can change,

Patterns and behaviors don’t have to be the same.

I love my loud voice and my brilliant mind,

I love my body that carry’s this baggage behind, the weight on my shoulders can feel a bit lighter, because when I love myself, I set down the igniter.

I love my loud voice and my brilliant mind,

I love my round belly, and I’m patient, I’m kind, I love the style I choose, my tattoos and my scars,

the loud voices around me, I’ll send them out far, my voice is true, it deserved to be heard, so I’ll say it again, for that 12 year old girl

I love my loud voice and my brilliant mind,

I love my round belly, and I’m patient and kind,

I love the styles I choose, my tattoos and my scars,

I’m proud of myself, I shine like a star,

I love my face, and the smiles it shares,

I know I have empathy and the capacity to care.

I love myself for days when I could not,

I love her yesterday, today and for years- I won’t stop.

[heart-songs]

You have summer blood in your veins, don’t you?

You’ve outlasted the slow burn of chlorine skies and citronella sun. You kiss like a sudden storm—full, open-mouthed, reckless, leave the days hotter than before they met you. You have a heart, vast and roaring as the ocean. Listen…

Nothing goes by more unnoticed than revolution. The saltwater, the sandcastles, the unkempt hours— you braved them all with the ache of empty hands, shucked open your ribs and spilled a luster of pearls.

Who says you can’t spin departure into something just as beautiful? Take your body to the shore. Let the waves carry you to bluer waters.

If all else fails, give the ocean back her salt. She knows what to do with it.

- Cora Finch

[webweabings]

WE’RE NOT MEANT TO STAY THE SAME

Deepak Chopra; // "Love's Ripening: Rumi on the Heart's Journey", by Mevlana Jalaluddin Rumi (2008); // Lisa Brooks; // "The Angles In Heaven Done Signed My Name", by Leo "Bud" Welch; // "Too Much and Not the Mood: Essays", by Durga Chew-Bose; // "The Book of Disquiet", by Fernando Pessoa; // "I've Changed a Lot", by Sarah Juers; //"The Rom Con", by Devon Daniels.

[lollytea]

I really love hope is a thing with feathers and I also really LOVE the hope as a sewer rat poem too but I wish it was not explicity written as "well actually" against Dickinson asgvsjnk. The imagery is SO GOOD but this whole vibe of "my metaphor is better than your metaphor" kinda sours it for me

[hersurvival]

High-severity wildfires,

Left raw and ruined,

Burned to the roots.

Exposed.

Concerned there's nothing

Remaining to offer you,

"I'm like moss," you soothe.

The winds of fate

Blew you my direction.

And you laid down your threads,

Spread,

Shrouding the most vulnerable

Parts of me.

Enveloped in the soft cushion

Of your protection.

As I offer whatever I have left.

Will it continue to be enough?

@nosebleedclub May 24th - Moss

[glennriley49]

Through the Storms

We began as fireworks in the night,

Lighting shadows with a dazzling sight.

Each word, sweet honey on the tongue,

Moments cherished, songs unsung.

But as twilight stretched, we lost our way,

Whispers sharpened, turned to fray.

When sparks grew dim, and warmth withdrew,

Lonely winds of silence blew.

Are we ready for the storms ahead,

The stinging rain, the paths we dread?

Love’s no tale of endless cheer,

It’s both the laughter and the tear.

Through deserts vast, forests deep,

We’ll seek the home our hearts would keep.

To touch that distant, sunlit shore,

We face the storm, endure once more.

Insecurity, a silent shade,

Jealousy, a thief well-played.

When joy falters, silence reigns,

Drowning echoes, unvoiced pains.

Promises once carved in gold,

Now crack under the strain they hold.

Yet still I rise, to fight, to mend,

To brave what’s broken, to defend.

Are we ready for the storms to come,

When voices falter, hearts go numb?

Love’s no tale spun from ease,

It’s the tempest and the breeze.

Through barren sands, tangled trees,

We’ll chase our hope, though on our knees.

To reach that paradise unknown,

We face the storm, and face it alone.

Each scar a testament, each tear a verse,

In pain we grow, for better or worse.

When arms entwine, when blame recedes,

We find the strength our story needs.

Let’s sit, let’s speak, and dare to trust,

For love demands, not gold but dust.

If we desire to watch it bloom,

We must brave the storm, clear the gloom.

Are we ready for the storms we fear,

The bitter truths, the falling tear?

Love’s no fable, dressed in light,

It’s the daybreak and the night.

Through paths unknown, we’ll chart our course,

Through doubt, through hope, through pure remorse.

To find the peace, the dream reborn,

We stand together, weather-worn.

Take my hand, through torrents fierce,

Hearts as armor, words to pierce.

Nothing treasured comes with ease,

But it's worth the fight, through storm, through peace.

Are we ready, battle-bound,

For love that bends but stays profound?

Through every high and every low,

This love, our anchor, will only grow.

@raceyrhymes @samcrosfaith

@ladyeckland28 @solesofwonder

[dream-in-hearts]

Dressing My Wounded Pride

Maybe I lack some self-accountability

Someone screaming at or scolding me leads to

Screaming at myself inside my mind

Takeaways from therapy a constant cycle

Because why do I keep shit bottled up

Still to this day?

Whenever it feels like I’m living a nightmare,

My dreams remind me to stay lucid.

Getting close to a decade

Of being clean from self-harming

That doesn’t mean the urge completely went away

I’ve had several close calls

Inherently good, yet flawed

Inherently pure, yet scarred

Full of love even when I feel empty or numb

And deep down, knowing that I am loved

That must be what’s keeping me alive

What’s keeping the lights on

Whenever I feel ready to kill them

Hit me straight in the feelings

That I’ve been trying to run away from

Could I have handled it better?

Yes, but I still handled it

Could I have given up?

Yes, but I still tried and tried again

Climbing all the way up from rock bottom

To taste the sun

And I swear I’m taking you with me